off fell the angel wing
to fly she’d flutter down
her warmth
to which bright seraphs sing:
tis glory in its crown

in earth she looks more like a nymph
celestial in her glow
her warmth
of which sly devils moan:
tis more of her to know

on ground hard wood she grinds to root
undergrowth tangling its strangled sheath
flailing dawning Adonis down
one beating wing

caught she dances in a gaze
to small men too mortal to see
freed she motions porcelain hand
frigid beneath hammering flee

up heaved the angel’s wing
straddling strata through heaven’s sky
up she heaved a painful flight
yet down she’d flutter to fly
to darkness red in black of light
thus cloaked from words unuttered they lie
warm upon bed’s eternal night
this angel found and i